Queen of Winter
by tommytuatara97
Summary: Our Story begins 3 days after S6E10 Sansa Stark is unsure of herself, her power, her brother.. her half-brother and Lord Petyr Baelish. What does he want? what does she want? different character chapters will appear throughout the story
1. Sansa I

SANSA

"You once needed me sweetling" whispered Lord Baelish before the doors of the great hall. She hadn't spoken to Baelish since the King had been proclaim three days past. He had kept his distance to let her thoughts consume her. She could not speak, the words swirled around her but she could not catch any of them.

"Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell." The herald boomed. She blushed and a shy silk smile appeared upon her face to acknowledge Baelish's sweet words. Her mind scratched back to the heralds' words _Where is the rest of it?_

The doors opened before her and she turned, immediately returning to her Northern hardened mask for her King, her brother… Half-brother. Sansa stepped into the Winterfell great hall, empty, other than Jon, Davos, Royce and Jon's direwolf. "Your Grace" She laid out a deep curtsy before him. He nodded uncomfortably at the title and granted her a solemn smile, he knew what had happened to their last King, Jon wished his fate would be different to Robbs. "Would it benefit my brother to walk across the battlements with his heir?" She quipped sarcastically. Jon smiled again with his eyes, "I think I owe you that much". The King stood, as did his advisors, as he swept out of the room with Lady Sansa.

As soon as Sansa was out of the earshot of the men she turned to Jon as they headed up the staircase to the battlements, "Jon, there is something important we need to discuss."

"I assumed that the second I was whisked away" he sighed.

"You don't really mean to name Ser Davos Hand of the King do you?" she let a smile grow upon her face. "There is no one else worthy of the title Sansa, plus Ser Davos has a lot to offer us, he has knowledge of the north, the south, where to find dragon glass and Kings Landing itself."

"Why not grant him the honour of Master of Maps or geography then" Sansa quipped. Jon chose to ignore the dig. "I have already chosen the best people to council me Sansa. Ser Davos, Lord Glover, Lord Royce and Lord Manderly." Sansa smiled again,

"none of them have any political experience Jon" he turned to her his brow furrowed, "I mean no offence Jon but you need someone who can help you keep your hold on the north and find you stable, trustworthy allies. Wars cost money Jon."

Jon turned to overlook the remanence of battle which sat outside Winterfell's surrounding forests. "Ser Davos is the ideal man for the Job. He values honour above all."

He was right, but honour was what caused their father to lose his head. "Perhaps you are right brother." She took a large gulp of air and let the words escape her mouth, slowly and with grace. "Do you trust in my council?" He swung around suddenly, to study Sansa's face. "Of course, you are the last Stark, I will always head your council" Jon began to move back towards the staircase back to his meeting. _Words are wind_ "We owe Lord Baelish our lives Jon. You don't want to admit it but it is true. We have offered him nothing in return for his help. How long do you think he will wait before he is rewarded? What if the Lord Protector of the Vale took matters into his own hands?"

"I don't trust him. He's a Whoremonger, A Money grubber and a snake in the grass."

"I do Jon, he wants what's best for m.. us, he loved my mother, he was the one who saved me from Kings Landing, he killed Joffrey, he kept me alive and he was the only friend I had." Jon glanced at her "and then he sold you off to Ramsay Bolton like some common who.." he saw tears forming in her green Tully eyes _Petyr would be proud_ "If he is allowed to brew on this spite by you for too long, how long before you end up like Robb or Joffrey or Tommen or Baelon or Renly or Robert?" Sansa let to tears fall from her eyes.

"I understand" Jon exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her.

"But I can't allow it. He is untrustworthy, cunning and nothing but a brothel keeper. He knows nothing of military strategy and has a very fragile hold on the vale." She flung away from him. "You're making a massive mistake Your Grace." Sansa was visibly angered her attempt to get lord Baelish on her brother's council had failed. "I'm sorry Sansa" she looked him dead in his dark black, almost purple, eyes "I do not want to be Queen in the North just yet Lord Snow" She turned and walked away from him, around the battlements and into the tower in which her brother Robb had once lived with Jon still standing on the battlements somewhat mortified by Sansa's threat.

She went to bed that night with tears in her eyes. _I cannot even convince my own brother to listen to my advice_. That look meant something between her and Petyr. It was almost as if they both knew this was wrong and had to be rectified. Sansa knew she was the rightful Queen.

Something inside her craved the feeling she had again when the Knights of the Vale smashed apart Ramsey's army with easy or to have the power to have Ramsey killed again in the same way over and over again for what he did inside her. She wanted it, like Petyr knew she would. She wanted the recognition for her hard work. She wanted the gratitude of the people, she wanted the singers to write songs of her victory not Jons.

She failed to win the balance of power back to her side this time. It wouldn't happen again.

##

Sansa woke to the sound of a knock at the door, she rushed for her furs and night gown and opened the door. Hoping to find a mockingbird on the other side. She did. Alas not the one she wanted. A small boy with grubby feet handed Sansa a piece of parchment with the green mockingbird wax seal on it. The boy curtsied instead of bowing and in a whispery voice "Apologies me Queen, I did not wish to wake you" he then ran off into the early morning air.

 _Sansa,_

 _I hope you would understand it is not wise for an older lord to visit a Lady's own bed chamber at this hour. I, much to the chagrin of Lord Varys hear whispers from my birds. They tell me such sweet things of hopelessly grateful deeds committed by beautiful Ladies who wield tremendous power._

 _A White Wolf would sooner eat a mockingbird than befriend it. But a Direwolf… that situation seems different now. The Direwolf has learnt to play this game of Cryvasse well and wishes to keep playing. The Mockingbird may not be the strongest, noblest or tallest player. But when everything turns to ash the Mockingbird will sing great songs of an even greater game._

 _Yours, Always._

 _Lord of the Vale, Warden of the East, Hand of the Queen…_

 _Peytr Baelish._

Without hesitation, the parchment was thrown into the flames beside her desk and she took a long drawn out breathe. _Hand of the Queen..._ written in such elegant hand writing almost as if the tips of his fingers had purposely bleed on the parchment to write her such words. This was a risk, a calculated one, something Petyr had grown accustom to.

Gilly was sent for and Sansa was bathed and dressed for the morning still with elements of mockingbirds and direwolfs dancing behind her eyelids. "m'lady" Sansa snapped back into reality, "m'lady your king awaits you to break your fast" Gilly sheepishly stated. "for how long?" Sansa still half in a daze replied.

On route to the Great Hall Sansa floated past Knights of the Vale whom each in their own brutish and proud way expressed their commitment to Sansa. Some chose to bow and have it be plain whereas others would graciously nod if eye contact was made, then there was Ser Lyn Corbray. He sauntered directly to her and knelt, took her by the hand and began to speak "My Lady, you look most beautiful this day, the teal of your dress brings out the shine in your hair. One day a Queen adored by all you will make."

 _Another Littlefinger plant_ Sansa deduced.

"Ser, you have made me blush. I thank you for your gracious words. But I shan't be Queen if Jon produces an heir?"

Ser Lyn Smiled, she knew how and when to play "A question for you mentor and a welcome one." A chill went down Sansa's spine as Corbray wandered off into the early morning mist towards the kitchens.

Sansa entered the great hall to find it full, lords of the vale, north and Jons council all sat and ate together. It was a pleasant sight to see, men befriending one another without a singular thought of motive behind it. Jon however sat humbled listen intently to the Maester. Suddenly, his eyes caught Sansa, he motioned for her to sit beside him. She Obliged all the while searching the room for Lord Baelish. "I'm Glad you could make it. The eggs aren't frozen yet so ill assume you want some" Jon motioned to a serving girl to bring more food.

"Thank you" Sansa rushed. Jon quickly came to his feet, as if he needed Sansa by his side to gain some courage. "My Lords and Ladies" he boomed. The court quickly dropped their food and turn heads towards their new King. "It is time I informed the court of the council I will keep in this great war." _Sansa froze this is a very bad idea, But Lord Baelish isn't here perhaps to save face he removed the possibility of being slighted by Jon? Always playing the game._

"My Hand, Ser Davos Seaworth, a proven naval commander, negotiator and peace maker. Lord Andar Royce, Master of Law and Armies, Lord Manderly, Master of Ships, Lord Glover, Master of the Nights Watch and Lord Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin." Sansa eyes grew wide as Jon took his seat with a heavy sigh. _had she done this? Gifted Lord Baelish a position of power, He had listened to her, heeded her warning, perhaps Jon would prove an ally to lord Baelish yet,_ the last she wanted was more conflict. part of her was proud of her own manipulation, the other frightened, "that was well council your grace" she smiled. He only smiled back.

Sansa turned her head forward and noted the presence of Lord Baelish seated against the wall below the window so the light did not catch his full slender figure only his worn shoes and the elegant robe that draped over his knee. His eyes, the green in them turned to grey almost instantaneously as if he had caught her staring, a smirk appeared out of the shadow as Lord Baelish made his way to his feet. This however was not Lord Baelish, the man she befriended in Kings Landing when she trusted no one, nor was it Petyr the man she felt for from the Fingers. This was Littlefinger, the man who killed Joffrey, His Aunt and gifted her to Ramsay Bolton. The Ruthless, Inscrutable, politician.

She watched his entire journey up to the Lords seat, taking the route around the walls of the great hall. He walked behind the table not to confront the king as a subject but as an equal, to council him. Jon was startled and Littlefinger began to whisper in his ear. Jon nodded and stood again.

"My Lords, the Lord Protector of the Vale wishes to hold council with the Lords of the Vale this will commence immediately you are free to go about your businesses my Lords. I am grateful for your company." Jon sat again this time slouched in thought. The tables began to be moved into the middle of the room so that the Lords could sit amongst one table.

"Lord Baelish, it would not pain you for me to sit in attendance would it, I mean no offence."

"Not at all my King, it is only fair you are informed of the goings on of the Vale, it would be an honour." Littlefinger smirked and took his place at the head of the table. This was on purpose, whether Lord Baelish was named or not he wants this done here, in front of Jon and she knew, herself as well.

"My Lords, it has come to my attention that the vale is now vulnerable to attack without the Knights of the Vale Present." Jon leaned forward "To insure ourselves from the coming winter Lord Arryn has decided you shall be requested to gift his Lordship half of your harvest." Jon looked glum, Sansa tilted her head confused. The great hall irrupted with noise. "half? You must be insane! Jon Arryn was a cautious man but he never took more than a fifth of our harvest." Lord Royce roared.

"Lord Royce the maesters expect this to be one of the longest winters to date." Littlefinger replied calmly, "Fuck the Maesters I say," Lyn Corbray said blackly "are these truly Lord Arryns words or be they the whore mongers who sits before us." _I see now_ , Its all a ploy, Corbray and Baelish alone are quite friendly. He has been paid to be Littlefingers most full-hearted advisory. Littlefinger cleared his throat to seem struck by this insult "Ser I assure you it will be safe in the eyrie. Is it me that you do not trust?" at this moment a grubby little boy snuck into the great hall. For some strange reason this automatically caught Corbrays attention _He's the boy from this morning_ "What are you doing here brat?" Corbray boomed. "the child looked afraid of Corbray, but turned to face Baelish. "Me Lord, the Maester gave me this to run to you he said it was of most urgencies" He handed Baelish a scroll, with blue wax on it _Arryn._ But it had already been broken. But by whom? "My Lords, I.." Littlefinger was stopped he lay the parchment on the table, looked up tears in his eyes. "What is it Littlefinger, out with it." Cried Corbray,

"My King, would you be so kind as to read this, I'm not sure I could bare to, we know your words to be true and fair." _This is orchestrated and Jon is going along with it. Lord Baelish saw this last night, and Corbray._ Jon took the scroll and began "Uncle Petyr, last night a hoard of raiders from the Riverland's scaled the mountain of the moon and attacked my current residence of hearts home, the attackers were replead however not before taking near two thirds of the Lord Templetons harvest and his young daughter." Lord Nestor Templeton and the knight of Ninestars looked crushed. Jon continued. "furthermore, my life was at risk and although my training is coming along I am not yet able to defend myself. Therefore, I must name an heir." Jon Stopped _He cannot possibly name Lord Baelish, the populous would revolt._

"I Robert Arryn, third of my name, Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East, hereby declare until a true born son is born to me, my heir, Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell." The room was in shock. _Lady of the Eyrie, Lady of Winterfell._ Petyr smiled at her. Jon was unsure what to think. He and Sansa excused themselves and pledged 500 swords to find the cowards as well as give their apologies to the Templetons. The meeting abruptly ended, as all the lords suddenly were gifting around three quarters of their harvests to the Lord Protector.

 _Queen of the Vale and the North_ She quite liked the sound of that. Sansa had returned to her chamber, but not before summoning Lord Baelish to her Solace.

She sat moments before he arrived, Baelish knocked lightly "Please come in."

"My Lady, to what do I owe this honour" Littlefinger smirked

"You will notice my guards have been dismissed"

"Aye, I have my dear" a crack in the mask, Lord Baelish had returned to her.

"Good, then we may speak frankly and honestly "

"that has always been my philosophy when making conversation my little dove" She ignored his joke as he took his seat and poured wine for them both. Gilly had already had a fire roaring when Sansa entered the room, the flicker of fire spread across half his body, lighting up his jawline and those green-grey eyes. "A Mockingbird is loyal to a Direwolf, no?"

"Mockingbirds are indeed, but Mockingbirds make calculated risks for Direwolves which can get under people's skin."

"Direwolves are dangerous when fully grown, and powerful. What would a Mockingbird have to offer a fully grown direwolf"?

"everything" he was enjoying this, yet so was she.

"Oh Lord Baelish I'm not sure I understand" returning to the little silk skinned girl he knew in Kings Landing. Petyr's eyes lit-up "A Mockingbird would give his beloved direwolf a Falcon to keep a watchful eye, Trout to eat, Krakens to toy with, Flowers to smell, Sun to bathe in and a Lions head severed on a coat of red."

Sansa smirked herself looking down at her lap. She plucked the glass of wine from the table. "Was it not the Mockingbird that wished to sit on the Iron Throne?"

Petyr stared right at her, he had yet to collect his wine from the table. Yet she had refused to drink as well. "My Lady, I believe I was misunderstood I.."

"Misunderstood or deliberately trying to manipulate me."

"The latter is correct my love. It is you who must sit the Iron Throne. You are adored by the people. The people will never love one of their own." Sansa was saddened by this, she motioned for Petyr to join her, "To the people of Westeros" She Smiled, not with her mouth this time. But with her eyes, for the first time in a long time. "Long may she reign." They both drank deep. These meetings could not be long or people would begin to be suspicious of the relationship that was developing between them. He bowed to her and swiftly left the room, taking one last glance at her before exiting

 _Queen Sansa Stark of the Vale and the North._ She rather enjoyed that title. But what of Jon….


	2. Tyrion I

TYRION

3 Months had been and gone, the vomiting never stopped, neither had the drinking. Tyrion resigned himself to wine until they made land on Dragonstone. He had demanded she see sense and land them in Dorne but their Queen was as beautiful as she was stubborn.

He sat, swaying with the Greyjoys galley, attempting to pre-occupy himself from the inevitable sickness and suffering of sea travel. Scrolls from Westeros lords, sprawled his small desk next to a small plate of salted beef and stale bread he had yet to touch.

Tyrion rubbed the backs of his calves again to settle his nerves, With Westeros divided completely, split in near five different directions Vary's and his own political skill sets were being put to the test. House Tyrell and Martell were what became of their allies to join them between the step stones and the rest of their journey north to Dragonstone, With the Greyjoy fleet ferrying them to Westeros in return for autonomy over the Iron Islands.

The North belonged to Roose Boltons bastard son, their loyalty to Cersei seemed somewhat strained according to Lady Olenna. When asked of Sansa Stark she had nothing to offer, but sadness took hold of her, the Stark girl seemed to remind the poor woman of her Granddaughter.

On the state of Kings Landing Olenna had much more to offer before the Stark girl had been mentioned. "Cersei has labelled the attack on Kings Landing a part of the "mad inbreed queens" plan to reconquer Westeros. The Smallfolk have lapped that up as any small minded nonce would and the High Septon has returned to the city, stabilizing it for the time being" Olenna was careful to mention this without the Queen in there presence, any mention of 'Queen Cersei' was prone to long rant of Kings and Queens and who holds true power.

It was at this moment Varys had drawn into the lower decks to find him. "What troubles you my lord?"

"the realm." Tyrion laughed

"ahh no wonder you are constantly without sleep and condemned to sickness and the drink." Varys made to move the wine from Tyrions reach. He smiled a sweet smile at Tyrion in the process.

"how far are we from Dragonstone. I dream of land."

"A day or so My Lord Hand, fear not, your feet shall reach dry land again soon. I just wish to be off this damned boat, the smell of fish, rum, wine and sickness is overpowering."

"Then its agreed more wine for the both of us" Tyrion gleamed up at him. Varys saddened,

"I've come with more information from the Dornish My Lord. It requires sober thought." Tyrion released his grip of the glass and sat back against the wall, Varys continued "An Army of 10,000 Dornish men march through the Prince's Pass, Ellaria informed me they intended to camp in the ruins of Summerhall and await the Tyrell army and further instructions."

"You're not sure you believe her?" Varys nodded slowly. "Varys, my dear friend" Tyrion began as he leapt to his feet and made towards the wine, pouring two full cups. "My sister had her lover killed, my Father ordered the death of Oberyns sister and his nephew and niece. She has no needed to distrust or betray us. Fear not, House Martell has been loyal to House Targaryen for nearly 100 years. I do not see it changing in the near future" they clinked goblets Tyrion dank deeply and made for his hammock, for another restless night….


	3. The Traveller

The sores from riding had flared up again, she'd had quite enough of the constant chaffing and decided to sell her horse at Kingsgrave, the desert had drained both her and the horse. She managed to gather 200 Silver Stags for the beauty, 10 off a Gold dragon, but people where obviously struggling. She decided the best idea was to disembark in Dorne, leaving in White Harbour would be more suspicious, nobody wants to come to the north, not when Winter is coming.

It also gave her time to gather information about the current state of the country. It had been far too long since she had been home.

Cersei Lannister, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms burned her enemies all at once and now ruled with an Iron Fist in Kings Landing. Dorne and The Reach were in open rebellion against the Lannister's and the Iron Throne. Ramsay Bolton holds Winterfell. When the man from Sunspear told her this, her face betrayed her.

"What of the North me Lord"

"Roose Boltons Bastard holds Winterfell now girl. Who would want to go North anyway seven hells."

"Someone whose family needs her me lord."

It had been days since she'd left Kingsgrave travelling the princes pass, she slept under whatever she could find. Even a singular tower a days ride from Kingsgrave. She stole food from Summerhall so was well stocked and had refused to take the main roads as the Lannister's could still be looking for her.

Arya had been at this mountain for hours. It had not been the biggest mountain she had seen but to her stubbornness instead of going around she decided to go straight up to see what lies beyond, it could only been the sea or more land. She was trying to remember her septas teachings on the Stormlands but nothing prominent came to mind. Storms End was her only thought. _Maybe Gendry is there?_ Midday came and past but she was high enough now to be able to see the other side, Aryas pace increased by this slight motivation and she reach the summit to discover ocean but before that cliffs and grass and villages and a castle, _Storms End!_ It was not as large as Winterfell. Not even half the size and nothing like father had described it.

As Arya made her way down things became clearer, the villages were all empty and the gates to the Castle closed above the Castle flew a sigil she did not recognise. Half red and half white with lions on either colour, facing each other, _more Lannister_ but as she turned she took another look at the flag. _The Lions have wings.. a griffin!_ This was not Storms End at all

"In the name of the King who goes there" a fat bald man yelled from the castle walls.

"In the name of the King who asks the questions" Arya smirked.

"Careful girl, I ask the questions here."

"A traveller me lord, nobody of significance" The knight smiled at her.

"you look tired from your travels little one, please come inside be merry! Have meat and mead and rest you can continue your journey tomorrow" Arya eyed him suspiciously, he had already seen needle attached to her.

The portcullis was opened and Arya decided a bed or even a cell would be nice for a change. The fat knight emerged. People were everywhere in the castle. _They'd all moved inside._ "Fear not girl the smallfolk will be able to return outside the walls as soon as we have news from Storms End." He smiled at her

"Where are we going Ser?" Arya asked.

"to see the captain girl. A little girl like you shouldn't be wandering around here for no reason." They entered the great hall and were immediately met with a room full of men drinking and eating and playing at cards. The man sitting on the lords Dias did not look comfortable in his surroundings. A pox-scarred face with a hole in one cheek that made her uncomfortable found her. He had grey hair and a white beard. Dressed ready for battle, plain steel covering his entire body, except for golden rings which circled the armour on his arms.

"Ser Flowers, who's the girl?" a gruff voice broke, the room went silent. "I hope that's not a whore, she's much too young for any of that, I didn't take you for a Corbray." A few chuckles filled the room. Arya was immensely confused by the situation "I am but a traveller me lord."

"I'm not a Lord girl, not yet at least. You will refer to me as Captain."

"Yes, my captain"

"Nice Sword, can you use it"

"Yes me l... Captain" the old man looked smugly down at her. Suddenly he was to his feet, sword in hand. "Who are you girl I will not ask again!" _Tywin Lannister reborn_

"My name is Jeyne Poole captain" the captain seemed pleased by this notion and sat back down, with his sword over his knee, much like father used to do. "House Poole eh? Vayon Poole was your father. Killed by the Lannisters in Kings Landing." The captain stood again "Lord Jason. It seems we have another Stark family rallying to our cause!" the room roared with laughter. It was then that Lord Jason looked at Arya. _Lord Jason Mallister, Lord of Seatown? No! Seagard. He helped Robb_ It was then that the thoughts stopped flowing as Mallister dropped his spoon and swung to his feet. Confusion reigned as he sprinted towards her "Mallister what the fuck are you..."

"Captain this is not Jeyne Poole at all," Mallister Gasped for breath looked into her eyes, the same eyes as Robb, as Bran, as Rickon, as Eddard "Arya" he whispered, she looked away from him unable to lie in this moment, not to a loyal man of house Stark "What kind of stupid fucking game are you playing Mallister, this isn't war of the 'oh I'm a king now' anymore." Ser Flowers boomed.

"no ser, this is a valuable prize, the King will promote you Franklyn." Mallister finally removed his gaze from Arya and turned to the captain

"Captain Mandrake, I present to you Arya of House Stark, heir to Winterfell and the north." The captain's eyes grew enormously. "My Lady if what Lord Mallister says is true pardon us for our insolence. I knew your father. I most honourable man. Watkyn! Send a Raven to Connington do not say who she is but tell him a noble house has joined our cause." He sauntered to Arya "My Lady I believe salt and bread is in order."


	4. Sansa II

She woke that morning to gentle snow falling from the sky. She opened her window out to the Godswood and watch the snow dance along its leaves.

"m'lady" Gilly had snuck in and gave her a scare "apologies m'lady, Littlefinger has requested an audience as soon as you are available."

Her heart skipped _He becomes bolder by the day_

She dressed in emerald green, a gown that fit her every curve. One of the many Lord Baelish had given her on his return to the north with the Vale army, perhaps as an apology for all the horror he caused her. She knew he did not know, she knew she should fully forgive him, but she could not do it yet. Especially as she was yet unsure of his intentions.

She met him in the court yard, she graced the steps towards the frozen yard where the servants and people of Winterfell wandered freely now, making coin, helping one another or just engaging in conversation, it had promise of home. But it was far from it. People were missing… and Lord Baelish's immense wealth could pay for Winterfell to look magnificent but it could never seem as her true home again, _too much horror these walls have seen._ She smiled around her letting the people see the new lady of Winterfell, they looked grateful to see her. The women look admirably at such a strong woman, who had suffered so much.

It was the men that worried her the most they leered at her. One man in particular, the fire in his eyes told her something his words couldn't, she smiled a true smile at the thought.

"My Lady, you look more beautiful than I could possibly imagine" He bowed to her, _a first_.

"My Lord, you look more suspicious than ever." His smirk was removed for a split second. Sansa saw it though, many would not. "I'm wounded, I am the most honest man I know"

"and modest, if it please my lord." She curtsied and smirked herself.

"It does not please me my lady, but you do." She cracked and blushed

"Lord Baelish there…" he cut her off

"Petyr"

"Petyr, there are people wandering" she realised her mistake and returned to her original plan. "Lord Baelish I wish to meet you here because its comelier to meet a lord in a public place not his own bedchamber."

"that it is my little bird." He smiled. "that dress is divine, funny that the colour perfectly matches my sigil" the smirked returned _Damn Him! Even subconsciously he could get to her. Or was it conscious?_ "thank you Lord Baelish I chose it just for you" she played back. He regarded her as to whether he was being played.

"My Lady, I find that such an incredible honour, when will you be needing my army again? You may gladly have it." He grinned ear to ear with mirth. "which is it my lord, your army, Roberts army or mine" he stared straight through her and almost without thinking "Ours I believe the proper correction would be. My lady walk with me if you would be so kind" Sansa agreed and they began a slow wander around the courtyard the smallfolk regarded Sansa well, but were unsure, but grateful of Lord Baelish, _southerners are never welcomed well here_ "My Lady would you consider a visit to your father and mother to pay our respects" Sansa simply nodded as they made their way towards and down to the crypts of Winterfell.

Once they arrived Sansa removed her arm from the crook of his making her way towards her mothers tomb. But she stopped in front of Lyanna. "Ah again your Aunt, you seem to be oddly interested in her." Sansa turned to him, eyes dark with sadness

"They say she had the best parts of me and Arya." Petyr returned to her.

"She was indeed beautiful, but nothing comparable to you." There was no smirk, no smile, _regret perhaps? no. Guilt._ "Yes but it didn't save her from being kidnapped and raped."

"Varys has always claimed it was severely out of character for Rhaegar to do such a thing" Petyr took a strand of soft auburn hair in hand as he spoke. Sansa wasn't used to this again, and still wasn't sure what he was motivated by here. Sansa tried to advert his attention. "What kidnapping and raping a woman." She acted like the girl he knew in Kings Landing, she knew this way she could always get information from him but more importantly this brought Petyr out of him.

"No, Sansa. Just raping her. Many men kidnap beautiful women in songs and tales, some men do it to beautiful girls as well" Something suddenly sprung into his mind.

"What is it Petyr?" She touched his chest.

"M'lady, you have distracted me with your own fascination with Lyanna." He sighed and looked behind him.

"If I am to ever be trusted by you ever again, perhaps even be loved, I feel it is important you know everything" his eyes were soft and his hands were nervously together. She was deeply intrigued.

"Petyr if you would be so kind"

"When Robert dies, I intend to name you Queen of the Vale and with the army of the Vale take back Riverrun, proclaiming you Queen of the Riverlands through your Tully bloodline" Sansa interrupted her heart and brain were racing a million miles an hour, gods girl focus.

"Without any reassurance, and possibly thousands of lives you would make me Queen of two kingdoms?"

"My love", he drew closer to her, "I'm afraid you've miscounted. The Vale, The Riverlands and The North"

"Jon Snow is King in the North"

"He was named, he can be unnamed. He is no threat to you Sansa, He loves you dearly, he struggles to show it, yet he does."

"However he is a threat to you."

"how so"

"he doesn't trust you"

"very wise, wouldn't you agree m'lady. 'only a fool would trust littlefinger'"

"how did you… the walls have ears" He looked wounded, to learn the information was true. "I don't mean I don't trust you Petyr, its just I am unsure of your intentions still" he moved closer, spired on by the fact she had not rejected his advances yet. "What do I want" his hand, glove removed went to her hair, and caressed her cheek, his thumb running along her cheekbone as he shuffled closer to her, Sansa suddenly felt hot and heavy. "Everything" he edged closer and tilted his head "I will make you queen of the seven kingdoms sweetling, I will rule with you, as hand and we shall be formidable. I will give you everything for what I truly want is for.." the shuffle of shoes, several were racing down the steps into the crypts Littlefinger quickly remerged and moved away from Sansa, falling into the shadows behind Lyannas tomb, but Petyr looked back at her quickly winking at her before descending where he was safe.

"Sansa, I thought you might be down here" Jon gazed at her from the opposite end of the crypt.

"Your Grace, I find it is a place where I can truly be alone, with my thoughts, hopes and dreams" she swore she saw Littlefingers grin behind Lyanna's tomb. "apologies my lady I did not mean to interrupt you but I came to inform you we will soon be rid of Littlefinger." She almost let out a gasp.

"I do not understand?"

"Lord Royce has assured me that once Robert Arryn dies the Lords of the Vale would happily take you as there Lady, they feared for a long period they would not have an heir."

"meaning Lord Baelish and his role of Lord protector would be"

"only an inconvenience for yourself and mine." She stared at him, void of emotion, she could read his game. And she was about to play a checkmate. "Lord Snow I sense there is more you are withholding from me"

"Sansa, I will not make you do anything you do not wish to do, you have suffered enough"

"I am to Marry"

"Yes, but listen to me it won't be immediately, you have as much time to recover as need be but the Vale needs a male heir. If it makes you feel any better Lyanna Mormont is to be my betrothed and we will marry when she comes of age" _Lyanna Stark, Queen of the North_

"I will do it Jon, there is no need to convince me" she returned her gaze to Lyanna.

"Thank you, Sansa, I will do anything I can to better this burden, Winter has come and we need to survive somehow." Sansa didn't respond, continuing to hold Lyannas gaze

"I will have a list of Lords of the Vale and their male heirs draw up and their portraits sent for. Sansa, this should ease the tendiciousness of meeting them all he might as well be.."

"there will no need for that" she eyed him cold blue eyes like the night king Jon had told her of but a warm Margery Tyrell smile. "what do you mean Sansa, you have to meet them you cannot just pick at random"

"I've already chosen" she lifted her skirts and made way for the stairs "Lord Petyr Baelish if you were wondering my king."

"Sansa don't be stupid, I'm serious" she turned and glared and Jon, _even he, bastard born looks down on Petyr. Yes, the parallels between Jon and Petyr were clear they had both become something from nothing. But Petyr had not Strength in his arms, Military tactics, charisma and Leadership skills. He survived on Cunning, his wits, his mask and most of all his brilliant mind._

"I will Marry Lord Baelish and until your betrothed comes of age and she births a male child Lord Petyrs child will be Prince of Winterfell and heir to the North and the Vale."


	5. Tyrion II

TYRION II

Saltpans had always been of interest to him, too big to be a town and too small for a city. The River Kings had put a strangle hold on the town close to its inception to ensure it did not become too big for its boots. As master of coin it was all too obvious what large cities tried to get away with. Most importantly gifting collected taxes to the crown.

They arrived in the dark of night, Daenerys had taken Dragonstone. Empty. Nothing but Stannis' banners to greet them. _All that was left of his reign._ Within a day of their arrival the ravens had all but gone to every corner of Westeros to announce Daenerys had come to free this doomed country. Cersei still reigned over this section of Westeros however. The Tyrell army was forced back into Highgarden to protect the gold and lady Olenna. It would not be long though, until they could take back all the south. And the North.

Both him and Varys wore long shrouds and were quickly whisked away by Ser Barristan once they landed. Horses had already been saddled and they made their way north-west. "My Lord. What troubles you?" Varys asked in a pleading tone.

"What If Darry has closed his gates, must we travel to the inn during the day? We will have nowhere to rest and the rest will surely be needed before this meeting."

"the Lannister do rule all these lands now that is true. But House Darry has been nothing but loyal to House Targaryen since Aegon the first landed my lord." Varys had put Tyrion at ease and decided to pull up beside Ser Barristan as they drew closer to the keep. Darry was small _inferior_ but ancient and beautiful. House Darry had held it for centuries, kings in their own right, for a time.

Tyrion held back, behind the trees as Varys and Selmy made their way up the path towards the main gate. "WHO GOES THERE" boomed an archer.

"Ser Barristan Selmy of the Queensguard and Lord Varys, Master of Whispers." The archer wore colours he did not recognise. _Not the brown of House Darry._ But nor was it the red of Lannister. "Wait here please, I will collect the Lord Protector" _Lord Protector?_ A man with dark slicked back hair and a short well cropped beard with boiled leather and chain mail made his way up to the top of the wall, moving swiftly, almost dancing. _He looks more sellsword than lo…_ Tyrion trotted his horse out of the shadows so the lord could look upon him from a distance "Ser Bronn, I see another title has presented itself to you, I believe congratulations are in order" Tyrion shouted in the distance. Bronn smirked "this castle is too fuckin' small for me."

"If you want a bigger one, remember what I said. 'whatever they're paying you I'll pay double'" Bronn Laughed. Tyrion joined him. "I don't see your cockless wonder of an army so how do you plan to stick with that my lord hand." Tyrion grinned from ear to ear. Varys rolled his eyes.

"A Lannister Always pays hi.."

"don't say it, don't fucking say it" Bronn Interrupted. "I'm all out of sultry wenches but old lord Darry did keep some fine Dorish Reds below the old keep. Best dust another bottle off"

They drank long into the night and through till dawn. It was impossible for a bald fat foreign man, a dwarf and one of the most famous knights in the seven kingdoms to travel during the day. Tyrion realised this wasn't sitting well with Selmy and his precious honour. But for now this was how things had to be done.

Most of that day was spent sleeping or eating, Bronn had seen fresh horses were supplied for their fast-paced journey to the Twins. Bronn had also agreed to support Daenerys, in secret, until it was time. Under the conditions that he kept the castle and would not be "Burnt alive by one of those big cunts."

That night as they set off North towards the Twins, Tyrion felt something he hadn't for quite some time. Guilt. He had felt remorse, pity, anger, depression in waves the last few years. And now guilt. For lying to one of his good friends. But it was necessary to keep certain movements a secret. As they were now out of eyeshot of Darry they made for sharp west. Just as the sun had set. They needed to make quick work of this journey. Within the night, or by morning they would surely be dead.

The road, deathly quiet, not single passer-by. The river road drew right up against the red fork all the way to Riverrun. However, this was not their destination. _Fitting,_ Tyrion thought. _The place Torrhen Stark bent the Knee to Aegon Targaryen was where the political manoeuvring would begin, and possibly end if things went south._ The sign hung almost low, "Lord Varys would you believe me if I told you I have never set foot In this Inn"

"I would not my lord, I believe the Imp was well known to frequent Inns and brothels throughout the seven kingdoms." Tyrion smirked. They entered the Inn of the Kneeling Man to discover it empty, nothing could be more ideal. A serving wench approached Lord Varys "Me Lord, as you requested the Inn has stayed shut the past few days and will the next two."

"Thank you, Sharna we will be needing a hot meal and rest as soon as you can m'lady" she smiled a sweet smile. "I am no lady me lord, I will be back shortly"

"how the hell did Jon Snow agree to meet here? Starks do not seem to live long south of the neck"

"it has bewildered me as well my lord, such a quick reply as well, most interesting."

"tonight, we rest friend. Tomorrow, we put a leash on the King in the North."

The morning sun had been and gone, it was midday when Sharna heard horses in the distance, she brought her best set of wine cups and jugs out on the large table. Varys and Tyrion sat opposite the door. _It would be a pleasure to see the boy he once knew and the man he had become_ Tyrion ponded.

"Wheels" Varys murmured. _He would ride a horse; no cartridge_ Silence fell the area.

Sharna screamed as the door flew open four men swept into the room, armed and dangerous shields down though, swords very much in their sheaths. Ser Barristan stood in the back of the room hand on his blade. The men wore suits of polished steel and full helms, round blue shields and white capes. _A poor mans Kingsguard_. It was at this moment the men parted and a short, slim man with green grey eyes and a pointed goatee almost danced into the room. Varys jaw hung open and Tyrion's eyes grew wide "such a pleasure it is to see friendly faces again, in this world we live in now oft this is not the case where we may meet again."

Tyrion could not understand what was going on. Varys was the first to recover "Knights of the Vale Lord Baelish, it seems Robert Arryn wants to keep you alive."

"Varys my friend, it is in fact the opposite. I am still Lord Protector of the Vale." Tyrion's face turned sour, finally displaying an emotion other than shock. "Ser Barristan, no longer the naked knight. Your skin is darker than I remember. Where did you retire? Dorne? Or somewhere further east.." Littlefinger smirked and that's when Tyrion had enough. "I was under the impression the King in The North would be meeting us, he replied to our message after all" Tyrion sat back.

Baelish, paced slowly, dedicatedly placing one foot after another, deliberately. He shook his head slightly. With a flick of the wrist the guards were dismissed into the back room, Sharna followed close behind with ale and bread for the men. "I'm afraid the bastard king never saw your little love fest of a letter my lord" the sarcasm dripped of off the final two words. "the Maester at Winterfell is my man. I read everything before the King does. I reply with the Kings seal, I see it my duty."

Varys stood with wine in hand. "I have never known you to be a giving and dutiful servant of any king if I could be so blunt Lord Protector" Littlefinger smirked, he laughed sheer joy in his eyes _he was absolutely revelling in this._ "Lord Varys, surely you meant to include yourself in such a jape. Tell me, was it you who murdered Kevan Lannister in the tower of the hand once you arrived on Dragonstone hmm? Was it you who whispered on Wild fire beneath Kings Landing to the Queen hmm? My Lord of Lannister. I believe you're being played just like everyone else. Lord Varys is no one's friend but mine" ear to ear Littlefinger grinned. Plucking a cup from the table and pouring wine almost to the very brim _arrogant._

Varys drew closer to him, Tyrion was in awe, _these two think this is nothing more than a battle of wits_ "I may have killed a hand Lord Baelish, an accidentally murdered several of your allies, I do feel for that." Varys looked to his feet fanning grief. "but your allies become mine. And your list of sins is much longer than mine own, two hands of two great houses, a lady and a Kingslayer." Littlefinger gave nothing away, simple slowing opening and closing his eyes to acknowledge this. "How would Cersei feel if she knew of this treachery, its plausible to assume you wouldn't be named Warden of the North." Littlefinger turned away from him and swayed to the hearth.

"My friend, I would find it difficult to believe Queen Cersei would trust you. A little bird whispered to her of your treason months past. Its plausible she would have Ser Gregor crush your head like dear Tyrions champion." Tyrion stood on the chair. Enraged that the two were attempting to one up each other when there was war on the horizon. "Enough. Lord Baelish if you wish to remain unburnt and possibly Master of Coin for Daenerys Targaryen it would be wise to be seated."

Littlefinger turned to stare right through Tyrion, "Oh I apologise m'lord, is foreplay over? Common knowledge in my brothels that the Imp wasn't the biggest proponent of foreplay." The smirk returned but he glided towards the opposite side of the table to sit. Tyrion decided it was best to kept Littlefinger happy. They still knew nothing of his intentions _it seemed the way with him._ "My Lord, as you know Daenerys has her dragons and quite possibly the largest force in the seven kingdoms." Tyrion paused. "Our intention is to see Jon Snow bend the knee and remain Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"Yes, Tyrion I've read the letter." Baelish waved him off. "This reminds me of days gone by. Kings and Queens popping up everywhere. King in the North, The Lannister Queen, King Kraken and Queen of the cripples, dwarfs and broken things" he gestured at Varys with the last point. "I suggest you go back to your island and tell your queen Jon Snow will never bend the knee. He is far too proud."

"like his father?" Varys asked.

"Worse, all Neds worst qualities and all Roberts best, strange isn't it."

"Well there is no point in this meeting then. Tyrion made to stand, when we meet again Lord Baelish it will be with fire and blood." Littlefinger gestured for him to remain seated.

"Kings Landing hangs by a thread, Cersei will not last the year if you invade it or not. The Reach belongs to Daenerys. By taking it back the Lannister will run out of food, the riverlands are savaged nothing will grow there for years to come. If my sources are well placed, the Iron Island will side with Cersei, but ships are no match for dragon fire."

"I believe you're about to arrive at the point My Lord" Varys interrupted.

"Don't fight in the North, Consolidate power in the South. The North is at war, but not with any Westerosi." Littlefinger looked to the wall behind Tyrion and Varys for an answer.

"But most importantly. When the battle is won, and Winter has pasted the Sun with rise like a spear and a snake will make its move."

"Dorne has been a loyal ally of House Targaryen for a century. With the prince of D.."

"Doran Martell is very much alive." Baelish tossed the scroll on the table. "The North accepts your peace treaty, in return for constant shipments of dragon glass and a meeting."

"a meeting?" Tyrion asked

"Daenerys is to meet the King at Eastwatch by the sea a moons turn from this day."

"Lord Baelish, I am as weary of your intentions as you are of mine. The Crown accepts your peace. We have an accord." Varys passed the scroll to Tyrion. He rolled it open

 _Lady Alayne_

 _It is a pleasure to hear from you once more, your Lord Father has always been a strong friend to our house. After this Winter passes it would do me great pleasure to see you return to Dorne. The kingdoms have been savaged and for you and your eagle Dorne would be the safest place for you. My father_ _tells_ _Told me you're one of the finest Cryvasse players in the world and have a fine hand for painting. I have a masterpiece to finish perhaps your finely toned hands could help me complete it. Sadly, I'm missing one last key ingredient._

 _Fire._

 _Your true friend, always_

 _Lewyn Martell_

"all sorts of Maesters, and servants read raven scrolls, you cannot assume they will keep quiet. Selective wording, I find and false aliases are the most useful tools." Littlefinger smiled softly.

"He means to steal a Dragon? Impossible" Varys scoffed.

"he knows exactly how my lord. It would be wise to heed this warning Tyrion" Littlefinger bowed and made his way for the door, clicking his fingers the guards emerged from the back room "If there are no more questions I wish you the best in the wars to come. I must return North. We will meet again following this terrible season." He looked almost sad. Something came over Tyrion, he couldn't help himself "Do you know of Sansa? Has she been found?" He cared for her. _The girl didn't deserve any of the horrors Joffrey or Cersei had caused her._ Baelish looked to the floor, eyes drained of emotion and replaced with liquid. "Poor Sweet Sansa, Ser Jaime found her in Maidenpool. The High Sparrow pardoned her for her sins and she died with Margery in the sept, a tragedy. The girl deserved a swift death, and she received it. I'm truly grateful for the gods for giving her that." With that Baelish left them. Alone. With their thoughts. Varys broke the silence. "Doran is very much alive, I believe that. Sansa Stark however. Baelish is neither a godly man nor one to stand by with Sansa Stark in trouble." Tyrion turned to him. Filling his wine again about to drink to the death of his former wife. _A widower, how fitting._ "what do you mean?"

"You saw the way he leered at her in court my lord. He sees the love of his life in her. Catelyn Tully."

"Baelish would never lift a finger for someone who wasn't Baelish. Even so, I found his tale odd. There is only one man that can tell us the truth of my wife's passing."

"the High sparrow my lord? Kings Landing is impossible to get into we can't just march there to find if Sans…"

"Not Sansa, Varys." Tyrion interrupted, sculling his glass. "My Brother. We make for Riverrun this evening."


End file.
